Neglected Grey
by SilentWater13
Summary: When a young boy is left in the forest to die, he is rescued by the element of fire. Harry and Draco come into a new power called their 'Inheiratance'. Severus discovers he never came into his full power after taking the dark mark. !Full Summary Inside!
1. Simply Grey

**Disclaimer;**

_**Harry Potter is not mine,**_

_**Much to my dismay,**_

_**I write this for mine own amusement,**_

_**So enjoy it as you may.**_

Damn corny disclaimers…well mine rhymes so it can't be worse than the others out there…anyways, let's get started.

Summary: When a young boy is left in the forest to die, he is rescued by the element of fire. Harry and Draco come into a new power called their 'Inheiratance'. Severus discovers he never came into his full power after taking the dark mark. What is so special about these four that the elements have decided to intervene in the couse of time? And what will this mean to the course of the war?

**The Neglected Grey**

**Chapter 1;**

**Simply Grey.**

A crimson light emerged from the darkness. Not evil nor good; simply gray. A deep forest on the edge of a British settlement, carrying the woebegone tales of birds and forest animals long gone from the deserted woods. The only difference between tonight and every other night was a small boy, slowly drowning in a streambed. His chest rose and fell erratically, his attempt at breathing futile as he inhaled water instead of the oxygen he so desperately need to live. A gentle breeze caressed the water, as though trying to provide some comfort to the bruised and broken body of the dying five-year-old child. The world slowly faded to blackness as the only child of Sirius Black; murderer of his best friends, slowly slipped from this painful hell on earth known as life. His last coherent thought was, "Maybe the glow will tell daddy I'm dead."

The breath that should have left his body came out in a gush of water, to which the glowing ball of fire shuddered in mild repulsion. Something in the night grumbled about hating water and seemed to come from all directions at once. Quivering with one last thought of mild disgust at the water, the ball plunged in and melted into the boy's body. The bruises and broken bones he had fought while trying to rise faded and healed, setting themselves back in place. The ripped clothes knitted the strands back together and became whole once again. The boy convulsed once, in a spasm of pure agony as his body resurrected itself and he sat up in the shallow bed, a feat he had been incapable of only moments before as he died. Eyes that were seconds ago vacant and dulled by death resumed their bright, honey-colored light. His honey-gold hair clung to his head and he shivered in the damp. His chest heaved and he faintly wondered why he wasn't dead yet.

Fascination become amazement and then shock as he realized his body was free of injury. Vaguely he remembered the fireball and instantly latched onto that, as only a child is capable of doing, to be the answer of why he was still alive and, as of now, unharmed.

Smiling slightly, the rather confused child slid down the base of a large oak tree, swiftly fading into the reaching darkness of sleep.

_Love/Hate it? Let me know. Thanks Guys._

_Me_


	2. A New Arrival

Disclaimer: I own nothing so it's really pointless to try and sue me.

**Neglected Grey**

**Chapter 2;**

**A New Arrival**

A figure, clad in muggle jeans with a matching jacket studied the great castle before him. The air was heavy with the promise of rain, the castle overhung by dark clouds. The wind whipped his soft golden hair, tangling it and throwing it into dark contrast with his pale, slightly tanned features. Yet the boy remained motionless, simply studying, his eyes the only sign, other than the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, that he was alive. Abruptly his gaze flickered to the trees, his hand instinctively going to the hilt of his stiletto as he searched for some sort of disturbance in the peace. However, midnight is hardly the time for an enemy to rise from its bed in an effort to attack. Growling slightly to himself, he turned and strode towards the dark shape of the castle, his steps light and measured along the gravel path.

The boy had changed from the five-year-old in the woods, lessons of a harsh life ingrained in his being. A pupil of Master Zen Yoshida, he had come to learn the ways of Ninjitsu and respect the art. Yoshida had discovered him on his vacation to Europe and adopted him. Together, they had returned to his home in Canada. With age, his powers in Magery grew, expanding beyond his Masters' teaching capabilities. Thoughts of the school he had been raised in ran through his head, but he pushed them away, clearing his mind to focus on the task at hand. He quickened his pace, effortlessly remaining on the balls of his feet, eager to reach the school's boundaries.

A great iron gate barred his way, and he smirked inwardly, his features remaining detached and emotionless. Raising his hand, a small flame flickered into being, illuminating his features completely. Intelligent, liquid amber eyes studied the gate before him. His rosy pouting lips held the barest trace of a smile, his high aristocratic cheekbones accenting them all the more fully. Two honey-colored eyebrows rose slightly at the rather unchallenging lock. The spells were designed to keep out unwanted guests, but he was a mage and quite above the slight of hand tricks used by wizards and witches.

Rapidly the flame grew, leaping from his fingers and twisting around the metal lock like a vine around a tree. Smirking openly now, he fed the fire with mage power, tearing into the essence of the spells and bending them to his will. A flash of white answered him and the flame spread to encompass the entire gate. Sighing, he relented. If he continued to play with it, he'd end up waking the whole blasted school when he wanted his entrance to be relatively unnoticed. Shaking his head at the obliviousness of the sleeping inhabitants, he let the flame die down.

'Let me pass,' he murmured in his Canadian accent. The gates seemed to sigh before the lock clicked open and the chains slithered back, allowing the doors to swing inwards. They did so with a rusty whine, clanging against the perimeter fence, and he stepped through gracefully. They clashed back to their previous positions, the echo seeming to surround him before fleeing across the grounds. He sighed inwardly; at least they had only decided to grace him with a little noise. He knew they could easily have woken the entire school should they have chosen to. In retaliation, he sent a hot spark of flame at them before continuing on his way. The angered gates clattered loudly in response.

It took the ninja all of twenty minutes to reach the stone gargoyle that he determined led to the headmaster's office. However, what demons they had trapped inside did not seem to be nearly as relenting as the gates. Groaning, he settled for a simple Summoning to gain the attention to the Professor. Waving his hand, a reddish-orange glow appeared in the middle of the darkened hallway. Swiftly it grew, a crimson vortex swirling in its center as the fire formed an outer ring. A spark slipped off and through the gargoyle, which shuddered and let out an earthy growl similar to the sound of rock grating against rock. Encouraged, he waited before the sleeping face of Albus Dumbledore appeared in the center of the vortex.

'Professor!' he called harshly, grinning as the man nearly jumped out of his skin, 'I would have come up and knocked, but it seems your guardian is rather rude in that regard.'

The expression on his face was priceless, and he nearly collapsed in a fit of laughter. He held his training in check, however, and his neutral expression only wavered the slightest bit. The poor man looked on the verge of a heart attack. Gradually he seemed to compose himself and studied the Summoning Mirror with interest.

'Sirius?' he asked, slightly disoriented, 'What is this contraption that you've set upon me?'

'Actually, I'm his son, Gregory Black; but just 'Greg's' cool. And this contraption that I've supposedly 'set' on you is a Summoning Mirror, used by mages to get a hold of someone's attention. It's great for communication, better than the phone or a web camera. But that's beside the point. Can I come up?' he replied, grinning broadly by this point.

'Of course, child, of course,' Albus replied and he nearly scowled but held himself in check. He Banished the Mirror before chuckling slightly at the poor headmaster's expense.

The gargoyle growled at him menacingly as it slid away to reveal a revolving flight of steps, the banister topped by a golden phoenix. He smirked at it, striking off a blast of power simply to anger it after stepping through the doorway. The stairs continued to twist upwards until they had carried him to a great oak door beset with many charms, spells and curses. It swung open for him and he thanked it silently, glad he didn't have to deal with another insufferable object. Those floating stairs had tried to drop him at every chance.

The office itself was adorned richly in folds of silk and other materials. The throw rug was a skinned polar bear that winked up at her when he glanced at it. Trinkets of every description adorned shelves thrust mercilessly upon the unsuspecting walls. But most impressive of all was the paintings where various people snored.

One man sat alert in his frame; black hair adorned the top of the roughly thirty-something Asian male. His robes were a Jaybird blue, accenting the vivid blue eyes.

'Hello,' he said quietly when his eyes fixed upon her.

'Good morning, Mr. Black. Clever trick with the gates and the headmaster's guardian. My name is Richards,' the portrait replied.

'Thank you. However, I must ask that you call me Greg. I hate being called Mr. or Black,' Greg replied with a small smile, 'how did you know about my "tricks", sir?'

'I simply used a similar trick to your Summoning Mirror, Greg,' Richards replied, 'However, mine is invisible due to the fact that my mage powers lie in air.'

'You were a mage?' Greg asked quietly.

'The mage of wind, just as you are the mage of fire, Greg,' Richards replied.

'You must have a fairly good idea of what goes on within the school, then,' Greg replied thoughtfully.

'Quite. Though I hardly divulge my knowledge without good reason,' Richards replied.

'Understandable, though would you be able to tell me if any other mages are here?' Greg asked.

'I will not give you their identities, that would be telling. Though I can promise you that you will find all three here,' Richards replied.

'Thank you, sir,' Greg replied. The conversation ended, however, because Albus Dumbledore chose that moment to enter the room, almost unnoticeable were it not for Greg's training.

'Good morning, sir,' he greeted cheerfully, noting that it seemed to irritate the older man though he was rather proficient at hiding it. Behind him, Richards turned his laughter into a hacking cough.

'Hello, child. Are you alright Professor Richards?' Dumbledore asked and the man nodded from behind his hand, concealing his broad grin, 'Good. Now then, Mr. Black, what brings you to Hogwarts at such an ungodly hour?'

'I come to inquire about a position in Advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts. My sensei, Master Zen Yoshida, is convinced that Hogwarts would be the most efficient school to apply my particular attributes,' he answered, pulling a file out of his back pocket that could never have fit in there if it remained normal sized. He sat in the chintz armchair Dumbledore gestured to and waited as the old wizard examined it over his half moon spectacles. The files were complete and it would take him at least half an hour to read them through.

'Tea?' he suggested, summoning a tray of the hot liquid equipped with biscuits and green tea leaves from a Japanese Banta tree. The headmaster nodded absently and accepted the proffered cup without a second thought.

'A mage and a ninja at just nineteen? Well, you could certainly prove yourself in these days, young Black,' the headmaster told him as he peered at him over his half moon spectacles.

'Undoubtedly, headmaster, but I wish to strengthen and hone my skills, not become involved in the wars of the Wizarding world,' he told him quietly.

'You choose to remain neutral, then?' he asked calmly, sighing when he nodded, 'Very well, Mr. Black, perhaps you would do me a favor in any case. There is a student here, by the name of Harry Potter, who I would ask that you keep an eye on.'

'The one whose blood everyone from the "dark" side is after and the savior of the "light" side?' Greg asked, nearly adding finger points to accent his amusement. He found his restraint would be admirable, had he the audacity to point it out.

'Yes, I am afraid so,' Dumbledore replied morosely, 'I am simply unable to watch him at all times and would ask for your assistance.'

'Perhaps he should receive training rather than a babysitter. The ones who really need to be watched are the children of Tom's friends,' Greg replied simply.

'What would you suggest?' Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling. Greg already understood that the headmaster believed things were going his way in his attempt to manipulate him. He smirked inwardly, hearing the echoing chuckle of his fire power.

'Perhaps I could train him and keep an eye on the Death Eater children?' he suggested.

'That would be an excellent idea. I will have young Mr. Potter meet you in the Great Hall at seven a.m. the first morning of classes,' Albus exclaimed, the twinkle in his eyes nearly blinding in its intensity.

'No, the day after we will begin. But he should meet my by the lake at four a.m.' she answered and then looked thoughtful, 'However, I will need a place to stay, preferably away from prying eyes and ears.'

'I can give you a room on the third floor,' the headmaster answered agreeably, 'You will find a portrait of a wolf. The password is 'Candy Canes' but you may change it if you wish. Would you also be willing to train other students?'

The rapid change of subject had been in an effort to disorient him and he refused to fall for that particular trick.

'If I do it will be by my own choosing,' he replied calmly, his demeanor remaining calm and comforting.

'Ah, yes, of course,' Albus replied, the disappointment flickering on his face for only a moment, 'Well, off to bed with you. I'm sure you've had a long journey. You may join us for breakfast in the Great Hall if you feel fit enough, or when you are comfortably rested.'

'Thank you, headmaster,' he answered, rising to leave, 'Enjoy the rest of your evening. Goodnight, Professor Richards.'

With that the ninja turned gracefully on her heel and left the room.

Okay, I took like forever, but at least it's up. Please review!

_Me_


	3. Morning Hours

Disclaimer: I own nothing except Greg Black.

**Neglected Grey**

**Chapter 3;**

**Morning Hours**

Greg moved through the kata with a wide sweep of his twin katana swords, the silver metal catching the glare of the rising sun and reflecting it in a blinding flash of light. Almost before the motion was completed, the ninja pivoted, flexing his grip as he spun into a turning back kick. His momentum carried him into a roundhouse, before he lept into the air, spinning as he kicked out. The deadly dance continued, as it had, in the hours before sunrise, each movement becoming faster and more powerful, rising to match some internal yet otherwise unseen rhythm.

The grass swayed as his leg swung over it in a low kick, body crouched and ready, never allowing his foot to touch the ground. Sweat glistened, cooling in the breeze that slowly made its way across the lake he trained next to. The birds awoke to the short gasps of breath from the warrior, who determindly flew through the air with another kick, swiftly followed by his flashing blades.

Sheathing them in the cases strapped on him back, his hands brushed over the sai still strapped to him waist, instead flipping the stilettos out of the sheaths on his wrists and slashing through the air. Glancing out of the corner of him eye, he noted the presence of a dark haired man, but chose instead to ignore him, patiently waiting for him to either address Greg or leave. He finished with him exercises in a sharp kick at head height, spinning through the air as he leapt into the final kick and spun away.

Breathing hard, he swiped at him face with a towel lying near a few other weapons. A bo staff and a small, thin box lay atop a rock placed conveniently near the lake. Finished with them, he banished all but the box back to him room. That, he would carry himself. He supposed the rock was located there rather than having to maintain a chair, but it served his purpose. Flinging the now damp cloth about his neck, he settled into the lotus position to begin his meditation while keeping an eye on the other adult. He seemed content to remain where he was, watching him go through his morning routine without interruption.

It seemed odd, to him, that anyone, upon seeing something new and different to his ways, would not automatically question every motion he went through. In his experience, it was uncommon for someone to remain so still and attentive for so long. This abnormality, though, did not confound him, but merely puzzled him. He was used to lengthy attentiveness from the ninja students and masters that he had worked along side with, as well as from other courts he had been witness to.

The bell rang for the first class of the day, causing the man to rise abruptly and hurry off in the direction of the school. He studied his movements for a moment, recognizing the way he struggled to appear unhurried and unaffected by the realization that he was late. He wondered if he was a teacher or merely an older student. Perhaps he was an apprentice of some kind. The greasy black hair was certainly testimony to intense heat, perhaps potions.

Sighing, he wondered if taking a job as a teacher here was a good idea. In theory, it would help him locate the other three mages, but after studying the course descriptions given to him by Dumbledore, they seemed little more than beginner courses for mages. There was also the matter that wizards and witches used wands for the majority of their spells.

Deciding to deal with the problem after he had breakfasted, he headed back up to the castle, intent on a hot shower to silence his thoughts.

Greg sighed in relief, letting the hot water flow over his smooth skin, rinsing all aches away. The water was slightly too hot, and he'd have sensitive skin to deal with when he left the stall, but at the moment he was content to wash his worries away. He gave one last sigh, this time filled with remorse and shut off the water. Shivering, he emerged into the steam filled room, wrapping a large towel about himself. The mirror had fogged up and he wiped it away with one hand, half expecting to see a large prune in place of the brown eyed boy he'd come to expect. Smiling slightly at his own foolishness, he gave his mirror image the finger. The mirror complained loudly in protest at the vulgarity of the action, and he silenced it with a wave of his hand, setting about to brush his teeth.

Sometime later, he sauntered from the bathroom, summoning a mug of green tea. He dressed swiftly, jeans and t-shirt, as was the norm for him. He slid his stilettos in place, deciding it would be best to travel light, rather than with the bulkier katana and sai. There would be a fuss, but the inhabitants would have to deal with it, and strapping on a weapon that was easily regarded as less threatening, such as a bo stick or nunchucks, would not help in those matters. He was not about to travel unarmed, either. That done, he left his room in search of the kitchen.

Okay…I know it took a bloody long time, and the chapter will probably not be the best I've written, but there is some stuff in here that act as clues to the future chapters…if you can find them and I ever get them up.

Me


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